The Prince And His Choice
by WriterFreak101
Summary: Cor is a prince of Archenland. Aravis is a former Tarkheena from the country of Calormen. Yet that didn't matter to them. True love looks at what's within, not the outside. On the night of their wedding anniversary, Cor recalls how he proposed to Aravis and how he had to stand against the Council of Lords to defend their right to marry. Post Golden Age. Now a Multi-chapter fic.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Neither Narnia or the amazing characters who inhabit the world which she is established in are mine. They all belong to C. S. Lewis. **

**This two-shot fic is written and dedicated in honor of all those who have fought against segregation, apartheid, and slavery in all its forms. **

Chapter One

I stand by my bed and then get down on my knees before the Table on my dresser. I make the sign of the Table and then fold my hands together in prayer. My prayer tonight contains within it the usual: strength to support my father the king of Archenland, wisdom to discern what is best for the country and her people, patience in the face of all situations, and protection through all days. And that whatever happens, the will of Aslan be done. I also of course thank Aslan for blessing me with my wife and all the joy that she brings. Tonight though, I do add one thing to my thanks for her. "My Father, I thank thee for the year that thou hath blessed me with Aravis as my wife. She brings me joy every day, even on the ones where we fight over something trivial. We thank thee for giving us the grace to do that and still be able to make up afterwards. And I pray that there will be many more years to come. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Breath I pray, amen."

Once I finish my prayer, I stand up and start to pull back the comforter. Once I do, I nestle myself into bed and wait for her to finish. Even though it's our one year anniversary and what we have in mind to do tonight doesn't necessarily involve sleeping, we still prefer to do these sort of things in nightclothes. (Or at least start off that way.) From the bed I watch patiently as she sits by her dresser, brushing her dark hair that shimmers in the candle-light in front of the mirror. The mirror was a wedding gift from my brother Corin, the king of Narnia by election. While it had been crafted magnificently by some of the best glass-makers in Narnia, I find that the woman's face that the mirror was reflecting was much more beautiful. My eyes drink in the beauty of her dark skin. It gives off a warm, radiant glow from the candles. The closest thing in comparison is a bowl of hot cocoa on a cold winter morning.

I watch as Aravis finishes brushing her hair. Though she could have a handmaiden do it, Aravis chose to do these sort of things herself. It wasn't to prove that she could be independent, or to cause insult to the handmaidens, but simply because she felt better that way. She was not one to always have servants fussing over her. Once she finishes, she stands up and places her brush gently back on the dresser. My eyes watch as she stands up, the fabric of the nightgown she wears rustling gently against her body. The gown she wears is not of typical Archenlandish style. It is actually one that is more common in Calormen, the country she originally hailed from. It has a wider collar length, which leaves her shoulders bare and more of her neck area exposed. While she had chosen to take on some of the customs and traditions of the northern countries, Aravis still also kept some of her own Calormene customs and traditions. When she originally used to start visiting the ladies of the courts at their castles, she would sometimes get comments on her choice of wardrobe. Many of the women claimed that the night outfits were more like something a prostitute would wear than a princess of Archenland. Imagine their surprise when Aravis told them that the nightgown she wore was actually modest compared to what some Calormen women wore!

I wait as she goes and says her own prayers to Aslan before the Table. Then when she stands up, I quickly shift myself so I'm sitting up. I reach out and pick her up. She gives a joyous startle of surprise as I gently wrap my arms around her and lift her up. Then I gently place her on our bed and she gives me a playful slap on the shoulder. "Cor!" she exclaims, trying her best to keep a frown on her face, but when I kiss her lips it easily flutters away. When my lips pull away she says, "Thou art lucky that I love thee."

I laugh. "What if thou didn't love me?"

She takes her finger and runs it across my throat. I feel a shiver roll down my spine and I smile at her. I can't get the smile off my face, that is until she says, "If I didn't love thee, I would have slit thy throat, assuming I wasn't able to commit suicide first."

I frown slightly, remembering Aravis's story of how her stepmother had persuaded her father to try and force her into marriage with Ahoshta Tarkaan. A horrible situation I could never imagine being in. I place a hand softly on her cheek and gently kiss her. "Come let us not speak of such things," I said. I then kiss her lips once more before kissing her cheeks. Her dark skin is quite a contrast when compared to my fair skin. Yet I could never imagine myself married to anyone else in this world. Nor would I ever want to. Aslan perish the thought. "Tonight is about remembering the wondrous time we have had. Not about the horrible ones."

This time Aravis kisses me. Her hands run softly up my neck and across the sides of my face, finally resting on my head, her fingers sifting through my blond hair. When she pulls away, she manages to say before kissing me again, "Not all times that seem awful really are," she said. "For without them, some of the happy times that we had would never have come around." At this, I had to admit she was right. Had her stepmother never convinced Aravis's father to try and marry her to Ahoshta, then she would never have tried to commit suicide. If she had not tried to take her own life, Hwin would never have spoken up and pleaded her not to take her life, but instead run to the North. Had Aravis and Hwin not tried to run to the North, she and I would never have met. And if we had never met...well, there was just some things that were too disgusting to even ponder.

Sadly, there was a time in our life where we thought that we could never be together. And it had nothing to do with Aravis' family or our journey north. No, it had actually been a couple years ago, when I first suggested to the Court of Archenland that I wanted to marry a woman who was not even born in our country instead of one of their own daughters. It had upset them beyond end. Many had been outraged. The notion that a prince of Archenland would not only marry a woman who wasn't born in this country, but a woman of the same heritage as our long-time enemy, was to be compared to a slap to their face.

In those hours where the Court wouldn't accept my option for wife and queen, I had to fight with not only my heart, but my soul as well.

-0-

I had first told the Court that I wanted to marry Aravis on the fourteenth day in the month of Greenroof. I was getting to the age where I ought to have married, yet I had never did, on account that I still wasn't ready. This had garnered many statements of disapproval from the Council of Lords, who desired greatly that I would ask one of their daughters' hands in marriage. My father, King Lune, had assured me I was doing the right thing though. The Lords finally agreed to leave me be until I felt it was time. (That's one of the bothersome things of being a royal of Archenland. Not so much that the government is more for the people, but because _everything _had to be agreed to by the majority of the Council of Lords and Parliament. Including such things as marriage. By Aslan's grace they have no control over some things, such as how many children a king or queen could have.)

During the third year I decided that perhaps it was time to start looking into finding a woman to marry. When I announced the news, the Court of Lords was in happy cheer and readily agreed with my decision. They then sent their daughters to come and visit me that I may look and see if there was one that I desired. I must have seen twenty women that I can recall, but none of them ever caught my interest. Sure, many of them were beautiful, there was no denying. But many of them were also superficial. They only wanted to marry me because I was a prince and soon to be future king, or because of my money, or simply because they didn't want to disappoint their fathers.

After a month of looking at all the fair ladies that Archenland had to offer, I could not find one that suited. At first I didn't understand myself. Many of them were beautiful women. Their fathers were all wealthy. Some of them were also impressive in their knowledge of the arts. Yet still I took no fancy in them. I kept asking myself the same question over and over, why?

Aravis, who had been away on a missions trip spreading the word of Aslan peacefully in a country known as Terebinthia (where pagans were often in conflict with those who worshiped Aslan and where there was often lots of turmoil) had returned to Archenland when she had heard the news that I was planning on marrying soon. Though I had written her a letter saying that she need not come back from her trip early, she wrote back saying that she needed to be there. I had sent several letters to her insisting she didn't have to, but she wrote back with arguments. (We quarrel so much that we even do it in letters. Don't ask us how we've been friends. We just do.) 'To make sure that thou not end up marrying a wretch,' was her final argument as I quote. When she arrived, she immediately wanted to know how I was faring in my search for a wife. We walked to the garden where I knew we would not be heard, and I told her about my struggles. And that Aslan had not been granting much fortune in the venture.

"Why hast thou been finding trouble in a path that should be leading you to joy and many pleasant times to come?" she asked me. "Aslan know that thou art ready and so do I. Surely His light has been directing thy path."

"My path is lit before me," I said. "But all it leads me to is in showing that none of the noble ladies of Archenland are fit or suited to be my wife."

"Has thou asked thy earthly father for advice?"

"Only every time I am considering. Yet every time I say to him, "Father I do not think-," he cuts off and replies, '"Son, if thou dost not think, then she is not the one. Thy wife should be someone whom thou knowest is right for thee."' I then sighed and sat down upon one of the benches, right by a small fountain, for I was weary and needed to rest and the flow of the water brought me sooth. I offered her to sit down next to me, but she turned down, saying she still still needed to regain her land-legs. For a few moments we were silent. Unable to think of anything to say. Finally it was my voice that broke the silence when I said, "Perhaps I am not ready after all."

Aravis was silent for a moment. I lifted my eyes and I could see that she was biting her lip. As if she wanted to say something, but was uncertain in saying it. This immediately caught my interest, for never is Aravis one to shy away from speaking her mind. "Aravis?" I asked. "What is troubling thee?"

She shook her head. "It is nothing."

I moved aside, offering her the bench again. This time instead of turning down the offer she sat down. She was still biting her lip, and I knew that she was lying to me. This was definitely something. "Why dost thou lie to me?" I asked her, reaching over and placing my hand on hers in a gesture of my good friendship. "Why dost thou lie to a friend who wishes to know what ails thee and take what burden from thy shoulders that he can?" When my hand brushed hers, I noticed her startle. And that was when I noticed something else too...something that I could not explain. It was a sense of connection. A sense of completeness I reckon is the term. Strangely, the emptiness this touch was filling the emptiness that was driving me to find a wife in the first place.

She pulled her hand from mine, but the sense of completion that I had felt was still there. Before I had time to ponder this intriguing development, Aravis was telling me what she had previously been keeping back. "I was just thinking, that perhaps thou hast not found a woman to be thy bride because thou art looking in the wrong places for her."

"What dost thou mean?" I asked, not uncertain if I was following.

She sighed in exasperation. "What I mean is that perhaps thou art looking in the wrong place." She turned her head to look directly at me, away from the fountain that she had been looking at originally. "Thou art ready, Aslan and everyone knows is certain. But maybe thou hast had no fortune in finding the right woman because she is not where thou art looking." She paused for a moment to let her words sink in, to make sure I understood. I nodded my head for her to continue. And she did. "So looketh in the right place, and maybe, thou will find her."

Of course! It made sense now! "It may be that thou art correct," I said.

She smiled. "Not maybe," she said. "Definitely."

"So I must look for it somewhere else."

She nodded. "That be my point exactly."

I stood up. "Then I must search someplace else. The question is, where?"

"Perhaps thou need not look far," she offered. She got up from the bench and stood before me, a radiant smile on her face. "Maybe not as far as thou thinketh."

"Where then?" I asked.

She reached forward and gently took my hand in hers. She placed it just above my breast gently, where my heart was. "Perhaps thou knoweth that already."

I shook my head in uncertainty. But then I felt that sense of connection become stronger. A thought came to mind. It was bizarre...but maybe...just maybe...

Maybe I am looking at the one Aslan meant for me. Perhaps I am speaking to her now. Maybe it is she who is holding my hand close to my heart trying to help me. My best friend in all the world.

The thought made me nervous. Aravis was my best friend who was a girl. Not only would it make things awkward between us if she rejected my offer, but it would also leave us shattered. Once I asked, there would be no turning back. I sighed. "Perhaps I know where to look, but am afraid to look there."

Aravis shook her head and wrapped her arm gently around me in support. "If thou knoweth where to look, then that must be where. Thou cannot turn away from it. It is where the path leads and it must be followed." She paused, then added, "Thou must have the courage to walk it."

At that thought I suddenly felt very nervous. Could it be true? Could a woman whom I've been friends with since we had escaped Calormen together as children, a woman with whom I had grew up in the Archenland court since I discovered I was the long lost son of King Lune, a woman who I would sometimes quarrel with over some of the most ridiculous things, possibly who Aslan intended me for?

By all logic, we shouldn't have been meant for each other. We just didn't seem to fit. She was a Calormen girl, a former Tarkheena and daughter of a Tarkaan no less. I was a prince from Archenland, kidnapped and raised as a fisherman's son until my escape. We were from two different worlds. Hence the reason we sometimes quarreled. (And the idea that I would marry a girl from Calormen would not settle well with some of the Court of Lords.)

And yet, we were alike too. Though we were from different backgrounds, we both grew up into families who both thought of themselves before us. We both were looking for something more than what we had. We both had the courage to pursue our dreams of trying to strive for freedom and fight for it regardless of tears shed, aches obtained, and challenges braved. We both thought ill of the other when we first met, yet eventually grew to respect and finally care for one another. We both sought to save the North when we learned of Prince Rabadash's plans. We both had the determination to keep going no matter how difficult the road (or lack thereof) got. And Aravis by far was the strongest person I had ever met in my life. Though I bet she would never say it out loud, I think she thought the same of me. We both loved each other, that much was certain. Even in our quarrels, we always made sure we let the other know how much we cared. And of course, we both found Aslan along our journey to the North. Surely if the Lion willed it, and we were willing to work with Him, He could make it work?

"_No can about it_," a voice said within me, "_it will work_."

In that moment I knew. I knew that I loved Aravis. More than any other woman in the world. The only question was, did she know and feel the same? "Aravis?" I said.

"Hm?" she asked.

I took a breath. "The path laid before me is here. I do have fear to travel it, but I will brave it because the woman whom I seek is worth every moment of it."

She looked me in the eyes. "Who is this fortunate woman, who should be of such worth to thee to walk down such a path?" she asked.

"I believe she is nearby."

"Well do tell where she is!" Aravis exclaimed, happy and yet frustrated that I wasn't coming forth with it.

I paused. This was it. What came out of my mouth at this moment was going to determine how things were going to go from here. "I believe the one I am looking for is close." Before I realized it, I was carefully moved in closer to her. "I believe that she is closer to me than I originally thought." Closer still. "In fact," I said, pausing just before my lips were touching hers. "I think..." I said as my voice trailed off. I felt wicked doing that, but I wanted to keep Aravis on her toes.

"What dost thou think...?" she asked.

I remained silent for a moment. During that moment, all you could hear in the garden was the fountain flowing. Much like how my heart was feeling now. And it was in that moment that I chose to whisper, "I think that she may be in front of me."

Before she could say anything though, I asked, "Aravis, wilt thou make me the most fortunate man in all the world and marry me?"

The joyous smile on her face and the kiss she gave me was her response.

**Author's Note: **

**Here is just a definition for one of the terms used:**

The Sign of the Table- Based off the gesture "The Sign of the Cross" that is used in many Christian denominations, though is mostly known because of the Catholic usage of this gesture. The Sign of the Cross consists of first touching one's forehead, then one's breast (where the heart is at) then the shoulders. (Depending on the denomination, it's either right first or left first or in some it doesn't matter. In Catholicism it's common practice to touch the right shoulder first.) In the Narnia world, the Sign of the Tablary is the same way. Rather than representing points of the Cross, each place touched signifies where steps had been placed. (Using the movie reference of the Stone Table coupled with imagination.)


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Turns out this might be a little longer than I thought...not by much though.**

Chapter Two

A couple of hours after I had proposed to Aravis, I immediately went to my find my father, King Lune of Archenland. During the moments I had been getting lost in my epiphany that Aravis was the one for me, I had forgotten that I had to first have his blessing! While there was no order established within the Law of Archenland which stated that a son had to ask his father for his blessing before proposing to a woman, it was still a well-practiced custom. My heart beat rapidly with my chest as I made my way to the Throne Room, where I knew I would be able to find him. (My father used to always go on hunts during the afternoon, but lately his body has grown more frail and he sadly does not hunt as much as he once used to.) On my walk there, every prayer to Aslan and every appeal to the saints that I knew left my lips. Pleading and begging that in my joy that my father would not refuse me to marry Aravis because I had proposed without his consent.

Before I even realized it myself, I saw that I was standing before the door of the throne-room. I took in a deep breath, sending one more prayer to Aslan and one last appeal to the saints. Once that was done, I opened the door of the throne-room and entered. As I made my way forward to the center of the room, my eyes quickly made glances at the four statues of Archenland saints which had made their dwelling in the corners of the room. (Again, I prayed that they were praying with all their hearts for me on their behalf.) In the center of the throne room were twelve seats situated in a rectangle. At one end of the rectangle two seats were set aside for the Grand Judge (who oversaw the Council and ultimately would say if something was constitutional or not) and a seat for any visitor from a foreign country who happened to sat in with the Council. Eight seats were for the Lords of the Council when they were called together for Council. And the two at the head served as the seats for the kings and queens. When I entered the throne room I found my father speaking with one of his advisers. My father seemed to be in a grand mood, one could see from the smile on his face which went from ear-to-ear. Despite this smile, I knew better than to assume that because he was in a lightened mood my father would find favor in my actions.

When my father saw me walking towards him his smile became wider. He turned to the Adviser and made a gesture with his hand that they would have to continue their discussion later. The Adviser nodded and bowed before him before turning to leave. As he made his way towards the doors from which I had entered, he smiled at me and gave me friendly greeting. And then he said, "Thou hast made a grand decision, my prince. Let us hope the Council thinks so as well." Before I could even ask what he was referring to though, he quickly left the throne room.

I turned to my father, wondering if he knew why the Adviser had said that to me. From the proud smile on his face, I could tell he did. I made my way closer to him. I watched as he shakily stood and latched hold of his cane. Carefully he ambled towards me. As he got closer, that smile just kept growing and growing. "My son!" he exclaimed as he made his way towards me. He only had to take a few steps before he was standing before me. "My son!" he exclaimed once more.

"Father," I said to him. "I come before thee-"

"I am so proud of thee!" my father exclaimed, throwing his arms around me. Even in his frail state my father embraced me tightly in a firm grip. I don't think he had done so so tightly since the day he had hugged me and recognized that I was his lost son. It was enough to make me feel as though a Talking Bear from Narnia had thrown its arms around me. "I am so proud of thee!" he exclaimed once more.

"For what reason, father?" I asked.

My father released his embrace, and looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "What reason?" he asked, looking at me as if I should have known the answer. "Why, for finding a woman to wed, my son!"

That explained it. "My father," I said, quickly forging on, "I am deeply sorry."

"Sorry! Sorry for what? Finding a woman whom thou love and whom thou art willing to wed?"

"No father," I said. "For forgetting to ask thee for thy blessing. I was so involved in the moment that I-"

My father shook his head and then banged the butt of his cane upon the floor. "Nay!" he cried. "Nay, thou shalt not be sorry! Thou hath not forgotten my blessing, thou knew I would give my permission."

"I did?" I said. When I saw the look my father was giving me, a look that seemed to say 'go along with it,' I swiftly amended my statement with a certain tone. "That is to say, I did."

My father gave me another embrace. "Yes! I knew that thou would ask her."

This caught me by surprise. "Father, dost thou mean to say that thou hath known I would propose to Aravis? How, might I ask? I barely knew so myself."

He smiled. "Why of course! Everyone could see from the moment that the two of thee came here to live that the thou would get married some day! Only a fool would not see the blessing that Aslan had bestowed upon the two of thee. In fact, though the two of thee had not known, the staff hath actually taken to betting when thou would propose to her."

So that explained why I often saw the servants giving each other some coins. Never knew why though, and no one would say. Pushing this realization aside, I said, "But father, how hath thou come to find that I hast proposed to Aravis?"

My father chuckled. "Doth thou forget that I like to look out the window that looks out upon the garden in the noon?"

That explained it. I still could not believe my good fortune. So great was my joy that I thought that perhaps what I was experiencing was merely a dream. "Father, dost thou truly approve of my decision to marry Aravis?"

"As certain as I am that the sun always rises from the east," my father said. He then placed a hand on my shoulder. "Aslan hast surely blessed us all on this day." The relief that flowed through me was great. This time I threw my arms around my father and embraced him. Thanking Aslan, the saints, and my father over and over again.

"Remember though," my father reminded. "It is not I whose approval thou must seek. It is the Council's."

It was something I would not soon forget.

Immediately after our meeting, my father sent his servants out to call the lords to Council. The country of Archenland is the smallest on the mainland. However, we are mostly made up of mountains, and they do take time to travel even on horseback. Once word reached the lords about my intentions to marry Aravis and that they needed to be called to Council to decide whether they approved of the decision, they had saddled their horses and were soon on their way.

During the three days that the lords were arriving, I spent many hours in the library. The moment I asked Aravis to be my wife, I knew that the lords were not likely going to approve of it without good cause. In fact, even with good cause some of them would not likely agree. Archenland is a free country, no denying. We have laws established that protect all groups of people from becoming the property of man. Even though Archenland served as a beacon of hope to those who were trying to strive for freedom from their Calormen owners, not all of Archenland citizens were open to people who were not men of their race. It was not just with Calormen either, but other cultures as well. Many a time had I seen Terebinthian traders, pagan or follower of Aslan, come to our shores and receive nothing but hatred. From the north we would sometimes have Narnian Dwarfs and Talking Beasts come to do business, and they would receive some of the same treatment. I was doing something that was never been done before. Never in all the years of Archenland existence had there been an interracial union between the royals. Our kings either married lords' daughters, or else they had married Ettinsmoore (back in the days of Old, when there once were people living in that country), Narnian or Seven Isles royals. I knew if I was going to have any chance to get the Lords to agree with my decision, I had to be ready. During my time in the library, my knowledge in the Archenland law and history became sound.

In whatever hours I spared I spent with Aravis. Sometimes we would walk in the garden. Other times we spent in the Dining Hall. And in others, we walked within the courtyard, along the special area where quarters had been established for Calormen slaves who had managed to escape from their taskmasters. Ever since her escape, Aravis had devoted her life to supporting the end of slavery. While she was never a slave herself, she once owned slaves, and seen the dehumanizing effects of it. She herself would admit that she had sadly been the cause of some of them. (When she ran away, she left one of her slaves to take the punishment that would surely befall her.) When we were kids, she spent days on end learning how to read and write in other languages (for in that country their women were not educated in any other languages outside of the Calormen tongue, and that was only if thou were a Tarkaan, Tarkheena, Tisroc, or Tisrocha. Many women and all slaves were never taught to read or write.) By the time she had turned eighteen, not only was she fluent in Calor and Archish, but also Terebinth and Common Narnian. Once she was eighteen, Aravis then started taking part in missions across the globe with Archenland missionaries. When she turned twenty-one, she actually appealed to my father, who appealed to the Pope of the Emperor's Order, to fund her own missions trips that sought to not only spread the word of Aslan, but also to provide ways for slaves to escape. (The quarters here in the Castle Anvard were a result of Aravis' movement.) The institution she established has since become known as The Aravis Missions. Not only is her institution known throughout the world, Aravis has become to be well-respected by both religious and governmental leaders. The Pope himself has even gone so far as to recognize Aravis for her works. (Rumor has it that the Emperor's Order hast already begun considering whether she will be recognized as a saint or not after her death.) Recently, she has served as Archenland's first ever woman ambassador to Terebinthia and Calormen.

Walking with Aravis, watching her work unfold and present itself before me, just solidifies my love more. When I look in the eyes of the refugees when they see Aravis, thou can see the sparks of hope in their eyes. Many of them, especially the women and children, come to her, praising her for their work. And asking if her work will eventually help the rest of their families escape their bonds. Of course, Aravis told them Aravis Missions would be doing everything in its power. Indeed it has been. But sadly, Calormen is a vast global power in our world, and has much more political power than our country. (The only way Aravis Missions has not been able to be shut down is because we have the support of most of the other countries.) It seems that despite all the work Aravis missions manages to accomplish, there seems to be more to do.

On the third evening before all the lords arrived, I was walking with Aravis through the quarters that had been established. We were holding one another's hands and were walking closely together so that when she wished, Aravis would happily rest her head on my shoulder. Walking through the quarters and watching people learning how to read, to write, to speak the Archish language, and of course, to be free. (Many of them that come here know little to nothing to do once they are free. Especially with the children and the adults who have lived their entire lives in slavery. And that's why Aravis Missions not only focuses on helping setting slaves free, it also works towards making sure the people who managed to escape it had the resources they need to make a living with their lives. ("For what more can a person become if they know not how to care for themselves?" Aravis told me once in her letters. "You can give a meal to a person, yet they will only have one meal in the end, and will end up having to keep coming to whoever gives them food. If that were to happen, what's to stop them from becoming slaves once more? Teach them how to prepare a meal themselves, and they will be able to eat for a lifetime.") While we were doing this, a servant came to us. "Prince Cor! Lady Aravis!" he called to us.

We turned to him. "Yes, good messenger?" I asked.

"Thy royal brother, King Corin of Narnia has come. He has just arrived in the stables."

My eyes widened. "He is here?"

"Yes sir. Thy father hast sent word to him ahead of all the Lords."

"He surely hast rode alone in order to reach here so quickly. For surely it is a good two day ride from here to Cair Paravel, and that is with very little time to rest," said Aravis.

The messenger nodded. "His majesty did say he had been riding strong for days. Even going so far as to switch horses every time the one he rode got too exhausted to go further."

I groaned. While I was happy my brother had come all the way here from Cair Paravel, I was irritated that he did it in such a way that caused expense to his health."Aye, that be my brother. Stubborn was he always."

"He does appear to be quite exhausted," said the servant. "But he refused to take any food or rest until he has seen the two of thee."

We looked at each other. Though we had annoyed expressions on our faces, we both could see the love and respect for Corin. Stubborn though my brother is, thou could never ask for a truer friend or brother. "Tell my royal brother that we will be with him shortly," I said to the servant.

The servant bowed and smiled at us. "Yes, my lord."

We started making our way away from the Refugee Quarters shortly after, once we had noted how we were both surprised that Corin was able to make it this far in such short time. It gave rise to wonder if perhaps my father knew we were going to be engaged even before he saw me propose to her in the garden. Before we could get out completely though, a woman of Aravis' color stepped away from the masses. She must have recently arrived to the Quarters, for I had never seen her before. Her hair looked like it had recently been brushed, but her eyes still showed the exhaustion of a journey that must have been long and perilous for her. From the way she walked, I could tell that her body was still recovering as well. She must of had a limp in her leg because her movements were clumsy. The woman refused to let that stop her though as she quickly latched hold of Aravis' hand. We both stopped and looked at the woman. It was obvious in both her actions, and in her eyes, that she meant us no harm. The woman smiled at us, and we smiled back in return. Aravis then spoke to her in the language of the Calor. Aravis then said in Calor, "Welcome sister." One look at the woman showed that she was not a sister of Aravis. But the term "sister" is a common word of affection used in Calor when referring to women.

To our surprise, the woman said to Aravis in Archish, "Dost my eyes deceive me? True words I pray thee tell, for do not the poets say 'Words that are true are music to the ears of the righteous, food to the starving, water to the thirsty, and more powerful than any medicine that can cure the sick and injured?' Pray tell me, art thou her? Art thou the one whom they call Aravis? The Tarkheena who escaped her father?"

"Aye," answered Aravis gently and sweetly, smiling. Her hand reached down with her other hand and took the woman's other in it. "I am the one whom they call Aravis." She smiled. "And whom do they call thee? And thy Archish is beautiful. How dost thou come across such fortune?"

"I had a fellow slave teach me the language, for she was from these lands. Sadly, she died before I made the journey, or else I would be here with her." She paused, and wiped away a tear from her eyes. Then she said, "They call me Siraleen." She looked Aravis in the face, examining her. A smile beamed across her own. "Aravis, thou hast given us hope. The word hast spread about your work. Slaves are doing everything they can to escape their masters. But the taskmasters, the brutes, they are cracking down on the slaves. While thou art the saving grace of some, for others, thou art becoming one who hast brought great torture."

My heart sank at Siraleen's words. Aravis' work was meant to help bring an end to the inhumanity. Not make it worse upon the people. Of course, this was no shock. Sadly, the hearts of men often choose to be blind to the misery of others. Nobody expected that Calormen would sit by and do nothing. Not while it was still one of the dominant global powers in the world.

The woman continued. "Thou must hear my words though. Thou must not stop thy work. The monsters may be cracking their whips and tightening the noose, but thou must not stop. Even despite the pains that have been dealt, this is the only sense of hope that many have. We had nothing to look forward to on most days. Not until the day we learned about thy works and efforts." Siraleen burst into tears at that moment and a sob escaped her. She drew her hands back, but only to throw her arms around Aravis and embrace her tightly. I let Aravis' hand go so that she may have them both to soothe the woman. Running calming circles along the woman's back, Aravis whispered to her in both Calor and in Archish. She kissed the tears of the woman away, and placed some kisses gently on the woman's forehead. Which only resulted in more being shed, but Aravis kissed those away as well.

"Thou must not stop," the woman managed to whisper through her sobs.

Aravis gave the woman a reassuring expression. "I promise thee this," she said. "I will not cease my work. Not until it is complete. Or until death take me before that work is finished. I assure thee."

The woman smiled through her tears. "Thank thee," she said. The woman then asked, "Please, pray answer me this as well. On whose authority dost thou work to set all those who are in bondage free? For surely there is no god within the pantheon of Tash that thou do thy work for."

"I do it in the name of the Great Lion, Aslan."

The woman's eyes widened in horror. Poor thing. She was probably raised with the pagan gods of the Calormen her whole life, and did not know Aslan that well. "The Great Lion? Thou mean the Demon that seeks to overthrow Tash?"

Aravis smiled. "It is quite the opposite actually," she answered gently. "It is not Aslan whom wishes to overthrow the gods. Rather it is the Calormen who wish to overthrow Aslan and establish in His place gods of their own creation. It was Aslan who sang this world to being. It was by the will of Aslan that the First People came to our world. And it is in the name of Aslan that I work towards freedom. For the Lion did not create one Person or Talking Beast over the other. But rather that they should all be free subjects. It is because of Him I hath found my way to freedom. For though I was not a slave, when thou art a Tarkheena, it's the closest thing to slavery in the Calormene court. It is by Him I strive so that others can be as fortunate and blessed as I have been."

Now it was Siraleen's turn to kiss both Aravis' cheeks. "The blindfold over my eyes has surely been removed. For surely what thou say is true. This Aslan character, I know not but what has been taught to me. Surely He is terrible even in this glory?"

Aravis smiled. "Terrible, yes. Nobody said he wasn't terrible. Of course Aslan is terrible. I assure thee though, He is good."

"Then it is my desire to know more about this Aslan. For my heart desires to worship Him. I did not see it until now. All of my life, I had prayed to gods that could not hear me, let alone have the power to save me. Nor would they even if they did, for the gods themselves find slavery pleasing. My heart longs to fall before this Aslan and plead Him for the very honor of being one allowed to worship Him. Wilt someone show me the way?"

Aravis nodded. The men and women here who have devoted themselves to this institution. Fear not, for we are here for thee." She then took the woman's hands in hers and patted it. "I fear I must be on my way, for there is a matter that calls for my immediate attention. Until I come back, thou may learn from some of the other men and women of this institution. I promise thee though, Siraleen, I will come back. And I will personally teach thee how to grow closer to Aslan."

The woman nodded in gratitude. "May thy God keep thee safe until then."

Aravis kissed the woman on the cheek once more. "Not just my God," she said. "Our God."

With that the two of them parted ways. My hand found its way back to hers as we reached the end of the Refugee Quarters and we made our way to the Stables. We walked in silence, but what we lacked in speech we made up with heartfelt thoughts. My mind kept going to back to what Siraleen had told us. Hearing what she said made my heart sink. To think that despite all the hard work that was being done, hearing what Siraleen said showed just how much still needed to be done.

With these thoughts, I looked at Aravis in admiration. When I looked at her in that moment, I couldn't think of anything that could make her any more beautiful. She truly was an amazing person. And when I looked at her, I knew I had made the right decision in proposing to her. I just hoped that the Council of Lords would agree. Imagining my life without this woman in it was something that I could not bear.

We were almost at the stable when I said, "Aravis?"

"Yes, my love?" she asked.

"I love thee," I said to her. "I love thee so much. When I look at what just happened, and look at what has happened in the past, I know I have made the right decision. I can not imagine myself marrying anyone else. To think that such an amazing person can exist, doing these wonderful things, it truly does show there is hope in the world."

She smiled. We stopped for a moment so that we could kiss each other. In that kiss, I felt the salt from Siraleen's tears on Aravis' lips. It did not taste awful to me however. No, to me, the salt in that kiss just showed how far we had come. Every obstacle, every pain, every road. Each part of the journey bringing us to where we were now. And not regretting a moment. "And I love thee, Cor," she said to me. "For without thee, I would not be where I am. Thou art amazing as well though thou deny it. However, I must say..."

"Say what?" I asked.

She smiled. "While it's true that amazing people do amazing things in this world, I must say that it's not just because of them. Sometimes, thou dost not need to be a person of great power or wealth to do great things in this world."

"Then what must thou need to be?" I inquired, wanting to hear her answer.

Aravis smiled. "To do great things, a person need not be great. They just have to be willing to do things with great love."

**AN: More definitions.**

Archish- a language that is mostly spoken by the people of Archenland. If translated, the words and structure would be pretty close to French.

Calor- a language that is considered the official language in Calormen. However, because the Calormene Empire covers such broad territory, there are over twelve languages spoken in the Empire. Calor, is pretty similar to Turkish.

Common Narnian- a language that is among the most spoken in the Narnian world, being the second most spoken in trade and commerce. After the Telmarines took over, the language became replaced by Telmaran as the official language. Caspian the X would eventually make it possible for any language to spoken. Due to the jump in the Old Narnians, it would once again become the most spoken language. It is known as English in our world.

Order of the Emperor- A denomination within the worship of Aslan. It is the most common denomination in Narnia. It is similar to Catholicism in both beliefs, practices, and structure.

Terebinth- a language that is mostly spoken by the people of the country of Terebinthia. Because the nation was founded by pirates, the language of Terebinthia is actually a mixture of a variety of languages. Among these are Common Narnian, Archish, and Calor.

Aravis' last line is a quote taken from Mother Teresa and tweaked to suit the story. The original quote says: "We may not be able to do great things, but we can do little things with great love."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sorry for the delay. Holidays had me busy.**

**I'm thinking only a couple more chapters after this.**

Chapter Three

When Aravis and I finally entered the stables, we could see Corin on the other side almost immediately. He sat in the saddle of his horse defiantly as he argued with one of the stable-masters. Quickly we ran forth, kicking up hay and dust as we did. "Corin!" I exclaimed.

Corin turned away from the stable-master and smiled at us as we reached where he and the horse stood. "Hail brother!" he called to me. Seeing Aravis, he added, "And hail Lady Aravis." With a cheeky grin on his face, he added teasingly, "The unfortunate lady who hath little sense. It was one thing for my brother to propose. Yet thou art a fool for taking him up on his incredible offer. Thou could have said nay to him." I eyed my brother, and used my eyes to indicate he would regret saying that.

Aravis however was a step ahead of me. made a face and thumped Corin's leg. Which resulted in a cry of agony escaping from him. "Thou ought to keep thy tongue behind thy teeth, if thou wish to get off this horse with thy legs still attached to thy body."

Corin bit his lip to repress a cry. "I shall say no more." Turning to me, he whispered, "Consider us even."

Meanwhile I took in the miserable state that my brother and the horse which he rode was in. My brother looked like he had been riding for two solid days (which was the case I remembered). Sweat was apparent on his face, and if one were to look closer, they could see it seeping into his clothes. The crown which stood for the Narnian royalty hung at an angle on his head. His horse looked to be in less worst shape. At first Aravis and I were baffled by this observation. Until we remembered what the messenger said, that Corin had changed horses every time they got too exhausted to continue. I glared up at my brother. "Thou ought to receive a good knock to the head," I said. "What will thy wife, the Queen Estelle, say if she saw thee in such a state?"

Corin chuckled. "Nothing I should think. More than likely she would give me a good thump on the head."

"With good reason!" exclaimed Aravis. "I believe I shall give thou one in her stead."

"Nay," pleaded Corin. "They are not the same. Believe it or not, Aravis, Estelle has a harder fist than thee."

"I believe it not," Aravis said. She looked about. "Where is the Queen Estelle? It is not like her to miss an occasion such as this."

Corin smiled. "I fear that Estelle has been ordered by the doctor to avoid all strenuous activity."

I raised my eyebrows. "For what reason?" I asked.

His smile broadened. "My dear Estelle has unfortunately fallen ill. Though the doctor fears the illness will come and go for the next few months."

"For how long?" asked Aravis.

That's when Corin's smile broadened the most, and he said, "For about nine months. Give a few."

The number struck me. "Nine months?" I said.

"That would be correct."

I turned to Aravis, and both of our mouths dropped. "Corin," I said, "art thou implying that..."

"A child!" exclaimed Aravis, cutting to the chase.

Corin nodded. "Aye, she is with child."

"How far along?" Aravis asked, her eyes brightening with the thought.

"She shall be seven weeks along this Cronusday."

"I hate to break into the conversation," piped up the stable-master. "But may I ask we please allow King Corin to dismount his poor steed?" The stable-master, a short man with curly brown hair, always did take more of a liking to horses. Still, I had to agree, it was time my brother dismounted his steed. From the looks of things, he looked like he wanted to talk about all sorts of news and wanted to hear some of the latest in our own kingdom. We stood back and Corin dismounted. He didn't take more than a couple of steps before he started to stumble, but I managed to catch him.

"Thanks brother," he said to me.

"Thou ought to ride like this more often," I said sarcastically, shifting him so his arm was draped over my shoulders.

"Please, I pray thee not to encourage him," Aravis chastised me. She slipped Corin's other arm over her own shoulders, and together the three of us slowly started making our way out of the stables.

"I was using the tool of sarcasm," I grunted as we walked.

"Thou know how he is," she pointed out.

"No fear," Corin said. "I do not intend to ride as such ever again. It does not feel good when one feels like their legs are nothing but two stiff boards."

ooo

A couple of hours later I stood in one of the rooms that my father had reserved in our castle for when Narnian royals paid us a visit. My brother had been given one of them of course, because he was now the new king of Narnia. It seemed like only yesterday (though it was four years ago) my brother had been requested by the Narnians to rule their kingdom. And it seemed like only yesterday (though it was two years ago) that he had just married to Lady Estelle, a daughter of one of our Archenland lords, Lord Gill.

Now to think, my brother, whom was now resting upon a bed and eating some food that had been brought to him by a maidservant, was going to be a father, was unbelievable. Of course, I always knew eventually that he would become one. Estelle had always dreamed about having one of her own. And Corin had always wanted to have one when he had first fell in love with her.

While my brother laid in bed, I looked out the window and into the courtyard. From this window, one could see the quarters for the escaped slaves. It had been decided to build them here by the chambers set aside for the Narnian royals who paid us a visit. Aravis Missions, while mainly run by Archenland, was also considered a joint movement with both Narnia and our nation. Volunteers from our northern ally would sometimes come and join us. I did not take my eyes off the sight as former slaves started to turn in for bed (for evening was fast fading now) as we talked. "Thou mean to say that Estelle believes it will be a girl?"

Corin nodded. "That is what she believes it to be. I personally am praying to Aslan that it is a boy."

"Thou art afraid that the girl will turn out like Estelle?"

"I will never win any arguments in that castle if it were so," he said. "Perhaps with a son I will stand a chance."

"Art thou not afraid that the son, when he gets older, will turn out more like thee than thou would like?"

"All I would hath to do is put him in a headlock and he will quit any mischief."

I couldn't help but laugh at that prospect. "If thou says so, if thou says so."

"Do not laugh. Some day thou will be dealing with the same thing as me," he said to me.

"Some day is not today," I pointed out. Still. Corin was right. I probably should not laugh. One of these days, should Aravis and I ever marry, I know that one day we will be having a child. The thought of it sends chills through me. I close my eyes and try to imagine what our child would possibly like. For a moment, I can see it. If it is a girl, she will beyond doubt look like Aravis. Her face will be shaped like her mother's. She will have her eyes and lips. Yet her nose will be like mine. Her skin color will be a lighter shade than Aravis, but a darker tone than mine. If it were a boy, I am surprised to find he looks an awful lot like me. His face will be shaped like mine, though he will have his mother's eyes, and nose. His hair will be a combination. It will be dark, yet it will have my straight and soft texture. His skin color will be lighter than his mother's, but still darker than mine.

Both the boy and the girl are very beautiful. No matter what they look like, they will be because they will be us together.

"So, how art affairs going with the wedding going?" my brother asked, snapping me out of my reveries. I turned and watched as he took a drought of some fine Archenland wine and set the glass upon the side-table by his bed. "Hath all the lords arrived yet?"

"Most of them," I said. "The last shall be arriving by the end of sundown."

"Who hast yet to arrive?"

"The Lord Pierre and the Lord Montague of southwestern-most provinces."

From the corner of my eye, I could see my brother's face contorting in unpleasantness. I could not blame him. Of all the lords, they were the ones who were going to be convinced. Being the southernmost of the kingdom, their provinces were practically made up entirely of mountains. Mountains that made it difficult and unpleasant for travel and trade. Hardly anyone went there, most of the things their people had were made by their own hand. They were mainly shepherds by occupation. Hard-working, strong and assertive people. Having visited that part of the country, I can say that they hath at least those good qualities in them. As it is with any people though, these had their own disturbing traits. They were not as open to people outside of their race. Few Calormenes and other escaped slaves who went there ever made it within the year. Unfortunately, as one can perceive, hate crime was most common in those areas. More than three-fourths of the cases we received concerning hate crimes came from those provinces. The lords Montague and Pierre were much like the citizens whom they had lordship over. It was unlikely I would be receiving any approval from them.

Corin got up from the bed and walked (as best as he could) over to the window. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and coming from it a squeeze of reassurance. "Fear not, brother," he said to me. "Thou need not worry. Aslan is at the helm right now. He will make it possible for thou to marry Aravis."

I continued to gaze out the window, choosing not to look at my brother. For though I knew that he was speaking words that were more than possibly true, I still felt uneasiness in my stomach. Looking out the window, I watched as the escaped slaves started to take part in a Calormen tradition. Aravis Missions, while it sought to spread the message of Aslan and the Order, it did not wish to ruin the cultures of the people whom they were teaching. Which is why it sought to also include ways of incorporating the culture and making it easier for the escaped slaves to embrace the message of Aslan. That was what was being done now. The Calormen were mixing their traditions of Calormen dancing to help tell the stories of the First Age. Right now they were acting out the famous scene in Narnia history where the seeds for the Tree of Protection were being planted. From this distance, I could make out Aravis. She read a group of escaped slaves in a dance which circled a man. The man was pretending that he was digging up a hole in order to plant the seeds for the Tree.

My brother chuckled. "Fear not, Cor," he said to me. "Only fools will choose not to permit thee to marry Aravis. And if they saw how thou look at her with such tender love and care, and her at thee with the same emotions, even the most firmly-set lord would grant thee permission."

"So certain art thou?" I asked. "Dost thou forget that interracial marriage is common in thy country? It was common for hundreds of years. Our land is not as diverse. Hast thou forgotten?"

"Ah, but thou forget how diverse that Archenland has become. It is true, a good seventy percent of her people is descended from those who first came with Col and his people when she was established. Over time though, others joined our ranks. There are pockets scattered here and there of talking Beasts and Dwarfs of Narnia in the northwest. The north is home to people who were actually descended from Ettinsmoore. Their people had to flee their country when Aslan finally turned it into a wasteland to prevent anymore bloodshed. The east is home to people from the Isles, Galman, Terebinthian, and Calormen. The south has its own pockets of Calor as well. Archenland has her own form of diversity. She is not as homogenous as she appears.

"Besides, there is one more thing that thou must remember."

"What might that be?" I asked.

My brother smiled. "We must remember that if we truly love someone, we are willing to do things for them that we would not normally do under normal circumstances. Like with King Gill. He wanted to marry a servant-girl instead of any lady of Archenland. Remember what he did when the Council refused to grant him permission?"

"Did he not threat to abdicate his claim to the throne?"

"Aye. He did. He told the Council that if they refused to allow him to marry the servant-girl, he would not have anything to do with the government. For surely, if social class is the only reason why I cannot marry her, then this government is truly not as "for the people" as it seems.

I sighed, giving in to my brother's claims, but only because I knew he was right. "Fine, thou win." He smiled triumphantly. "Do not let it it go to thy head though. If I recall correctly, I usually win the battle of words."

He punched me in the arm. "Aye, but I can still knock thee down though in three seconds flat."

"I can outmatch thee in a duel of swords," I countered.

"Aye, that be true," he admitted. "But who do you believe is the better rider? Hast thy skills in that area improved since we last rode together?"

"I guess we shall see later once everything blows over," I said.

"Don't bother!" called a voice cheekily on the other side of the door. We turned with surprise to see that our father was standing behind it. He gave us a teasing grin and said, "For everyone knows that when it comes to riding, Aravis has got both of thee beat."

**AN: Definitions:**

Estelle- A daughter of an Archenland lord. Noted for her beauty and kindness, Estelle actually had no real obvious interest in Corin. He took a fancy to her though because she was unlike the other girls, who would fall in the palm of his hand. Their banter would go on for some time before she would agree to fully court him. And even longer courting until they married.

Cronusday- the seventh day of the week in the Narnian calendar. The Archenland calendar is similar, with a couple of exceptions. They name their days differently, and they start their weeks off with a different day of the week.

The First Age- a term given to the age before Narnia fell to the One Hundred Years of Winter. This includes the Creation of Narnia and all events leading up to then.

King Gill- a king of Archenland in the year 525. He would be the first ever king to ever take on a commoner as his wife.

Lord Gill- a lord of Archenland who served for a brief time as lord of a northern Archenland province. Named after King Gill. The father of Estelle.


End file.
